<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Frarytales by Mizzswan</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367497">Frarytales</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzswan/pseuds/Mizzswan'>Mizzswan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>DALDOM [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Reign (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonus Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Prompt Fic, read dream a little dream of me first</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:47:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizzswan/pseuds/Mizzswan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deleted scenes and Flashbacks from Dream A Litte Dream of Me. Read that first before this one.<br/>Prompts are welcome as well both before or after Anne.<br/>The chapters are all pretty short as the flashbacks in the stories were never that long and these are mostly unedited.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>François II de France/Mary I of Scotland | Mary Queen of Scots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>DALDOM [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. BAR Exam - Study Buddy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The other side of the bed is cold and vacant when she reaches her hand out. She groans softly as she lifts her head up, the sun isn't even up yet and she feels like they just went to bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Francis?” She questions, but she doesn't get a reply until she starts to stir. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go back to sleep.” His voice comes from the corner of the room sounding way too awake given the hour. She flops over on her back and stretches, arching her back before flopping back down again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come back.” She whines, reaching but he doesn't. “Francis.” She’s still a little groggy, but she sits up and she rubs at her eyes. Francis is seated at the table in the corner of the hotel room, the lamp is the only thing lit and she can see he’s flipping through his notes like he has been the last few months. “What time is it?” She asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just passed three.” He tells her without looking up, “I told you to go back to sleep.” That’s said on a more gentler note and this time he does look up as she’s pulling his shirt off the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You go back to bed.” She jokes as she stands next to him, “Francis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” He’s returned to his notes, Mary being placed on the back burner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you study any more your brain is going to explode.” She tells him as she combs her fingers through his curls. They’re a little messy, a little longer than he usually keeps them, and he’s less tidy than he is usually. She likes the slightly unkempt look though, she doesn't tell him that. She sighs loudly. “Fraaannciiiis-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I don't pass, I don't get certified.” He tells her like he hasn't told her a million times already and instead of assuring him that he will pass for the hundredth time, she just shoves him back and plops herself in his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come back to bed.” She says softly, “You won't pass if you fall asleep during it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mary-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please?” She pouts, “We don't have to go right to sleep.” She suggests with a small bite of her lip and her hands running down his chest, and up his shoulders, and down his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should not have brought you with me.” He says, “You’re too distracting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re worrying over nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll pass, I know you will.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if I d-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? You’ll try again.” She whispers as she presses a soft kiss to his mouth, “And again,” <em>Kiss</em>. “And again.” <em>Kiss</em>. “Aaaand again.” This kiss is longer and slower as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her body to his. He tenses when she slides her tongue against his teeth before just pulling back and breaking the kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He says with a sigh, he shakes his head when she slumps, “You’re right...I’m nervous.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand.” She says as she tacks on a small smile and her arms loosen around him. “You do need to sleep.” She tells him seriously as she stands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mary-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't make me drag you.”  He gives her a dramatic roll of his eyes but he stands. He only frowns a little as she closes his notebook and starts pulling him towards the bed. “Better.” She whispers as she wraps her arms around his neck again, kissing him deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought the point of moving was to go to-” His words stop abruptly when she slips a hand under the fabric of his sweats. She breathes a laugh against his throat as she presses open-mouthed kisses to the skin of his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sssh.” She shushes him. “Don't talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mary, what are you doing?” His voice is just a little breathier and she smiles when his breath hitches when she grasps him more tightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don't like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did <em>not</em> say th-” She presses a kiss to his chest before sinking to the floor with a giggle. “Mary?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Giving you some good luck.” She tells him as she kisses the hallows of his hips before moving her mouth to much more sensitive places.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prompt: The Results</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: Could you do a scene of Francis graduating/ getting his results?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Francis has been incredibly anxious since he took the exam a month ago. The results aren't in yet, which has convinced him that he failed and he's already started prepping for when he wants to retake it in a few months.</p>
<p>There isn't much that she can do in terms of helping him. She wishes she could do more. Also, the more he studies, the less time he has to spend with her.</p>
<p><br/>"Francis." She calls for him from her place on the couch, she can see him at the table with his books and he doesn't even look up from them when she calls for him.</p>
<p>"Fraaanncciissss." She tries a sweeter tone and this time he does look up.</p>
<p><br/>"Yes?"</p>
<p><br/>"You're neglecting me."</p>
<p><br/>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p><br/>"You should be, if I were a plant I'd be dead right now." She jokes he just nods in acknowledgment and goes back to what he was doing.</p>
<p><br/>It should be <em>her</em>, but whatever. She flips through channels on the tv to busy herself before she throws it down and marches over to him.</p>
<p><br/>"Hey!" He exclaims when she reaches from behind him and slams the book closed.</p>
<p>"What are you doing?"</p>
<p><br/>"I don't understand why you're studying when you already passed." </p>
<p><br/>"Because I didn-"</p>
<p><br/>"You don't know thaaaattt!" Okay, she has resorted to whining, not a good look, but she's frustrated. What did Kenna call it the other day?<br/><em>Touch starved.</em> Yes, she would literally kill to have Francis <em>breathe</em> in her direction right now.</p>
<p><br/>"Mary-"</p>
<p><br/>"Francis." She says his name with as much sternness as he says hers and this time he gets up and turns to look at her. "Wow, look at you standing, I almost forgot how tall you were."</p>
<p><br/>"Haha-"</p>
<p><br/>"Let's go out." She says quickly as she wraps her arms around his neck, "Huh? We can get something to eat, maybe take a walk." She suggests softly, it's a suggestion, a start, something. </p>
<p><br/>"I-"</p>
<p><br/>"Don't say it, Francis, I swear to God-"</p>
<p><br/>"-have to study." He finishes as he removes her arms from around him and she groans until it turns into something akin to a whale that somehow found itself stranded on the beach. "Wow, <em>that</em> was impressive."</p>
<p><br/>"Francis-"</p>
<p><br/>"Okay, listen."</p>
<p><br/>"Nooooooooo-"</p>
<p><br/>"After I pass, we'll do whatever you want." Oh, she's gonna skin him. She's gonna skin him and him trying to fight her off will be the most he's touched her in a month. "I mean it."<br/>"I'm going to die." She tells him, "Do you want me to die? Because I'll do it."</p>
<p><br/>"Um-"</p>
<p><br/>"FRANCIS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD-"</p>
<p><br/>"Stop yelling you're going to get us evicted." He finds this funny, she can tell. Buried underneath all that anxiety and self doubt is amusement at her suffering.</p>
<p><br/>"This is the most you've talked to me in literal weeks." </p>
<p><br/>"I talk to you." He says softly with a cute little pout that tugs at her heartstrings. She wants to smack him. And kiss him.</p>
<p><br/>Two very conflicting emotions right now.<br/>"I'm going to go see a movie." She tells him, "You study. Because <em>apparently</em> that's all you know how to do." She frowns and he rolls his eyes as she grabs her bag and leaves.</p>
<p>
  <em>-/-</em>
</p>
<p>Every day she checks the mail and every day his results are nowhere to be found. She's literally about to send a very heated email. They're newlyweds, what kind of newlyweds don't makeout at least twelve times a day?<br/>Okay, twelve might be pushing it.<br/>She's touch starved or whatever Kenna said.<br/>Maybe if she's just a little more assertive...</p>
<p><br/>She groans as she throws the mail down and runs her fingers through her hair. </p>
<p><br/>She goes out with Kenna and Greer later and she drinks a little too much, but not to the point that's she's falling down drunk. She just has the smallest of buzzes and she's <em>mad.</em></p>
<p><br/>"Francis." She says when she opens the door to their shared apartment. He doesn't look up, "FRANCIS!" is said on a shout and he looks up, a little bit frightened but more so confused. And that's when it starts. She starts pulling off her shoes and then her socks and then she's unbuttoning her pants.</p>
<p><br/>"What are you doing?" He asks with a quirk of his brow.</p>
<p><br/>"What does it look like I'm doing?" She asks as she throws her jacket at him.</p>
<p><br/>"Uuuuh-" </p>
<p><br/>"I'm taking off my clothes."</p>
<p><br/>"I...can see that."</p>
<p><br/>"Then why did you ask?" She snaps as she slowly works her jeans down her legs and he's looking at her now, more directly, just watching this play out with a curious eye, "Enjoying the show?"</p>
<p><br/>"Maybe if you put your hips into it more." He says and he's smiling at her now and it feels like it's been forever since he has. "Well, go on then." </p>
<p><br/>It's not sexy by any means but she does it, it earns her a laugh from him as her moves are like those of a baby giraffe taking its first steps. </p>
<p><br/>"This working for you?"</p>
<p><br/>"Not really." He laughs, "How much have you had to drink tonight?"</p>
<p><br/>"Enough." She tells him as she throws her shirt at him, he catches it before tossing it over his shoulder and standing.</p>
<p><br/>"Fine. I'll take a break, please stop stripping in the livingroom."</p>
<p><br/>"It's a studio apartment, Francis, the whole place is the bedroom."</p>
<p><br/>"Ah, is it?" He asks her as he closes his books and then he's walking over to her.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>-/-</em>
</p>
<p><br/>"Francis!" She's crashing into him with an envelope in hand and he reaches his hands out to steady her. "Look at what I gottttt." </p>
<p><br/>"Is that-"</p>
<p><br/>"Yes, sir, it isss." She smirks and then she's running out of his grasp as she opens it with a giggle.</p>
<p><br/>"Mary-" </p>
<p><br/>"Wait." She says quickly, "before you look..."</p>
<p><br/>"Yes?" He questions, he seems a little annoyed that she keeps running away from him with his future between her fingers.</p>
<p><br/>"I love you," She tells him, "No matter what this says." She hands it back to him but he just stares at it. </p>
<p><br/>"You do it." He says softly as he hands it back to her.</p>
<p><br/>"But it's-"</p>
<p><br/>"Pleaasssee?" Oh, he's too nervous to do it. She smiles a small smile before she reaches inside and pulls the thick paper out and it's a brutal ten seconds as she unfolds the contents and skims.</p>
<p><br/>"Francis-"</p>
<p><br/>"I failed?"</p>
<p><br/>"You passed!" She shouts it excitedly as she hands it back to him and now he's skimming the letter too and he then his lips stretch into a smile.</p>
<p><br/>"I passed." </p>
<p><br/>"Yes!" She giggles when he lifts her up and then they're spinning, "I told you! You did it!"</p>
<p><br/>"<em>We</em> did it." He says after he sets her down and he's serious now as he strokes her cheek. She gives him a confused look as her hand goes over his.</p>
<p><br/>"I didn't do anything." </p>
<p><br/>"You helped me study and you've been so supportive." He smiles, "This is our win." The seriousness is over now and he's back to spinning her around and kissing her senseless, "Do you know what this means-"</p>
<p><br/>"I was right?" She questions as she steadies herself when he finally puts her back down.</p>
<p><br/>"I can get a better job." He tells her, "And then we can get a house, with rooms, Mary, walls and doors and-"</p>
<p>"Less nosey neighbors?"</p>
<p><br/>"YES!" </p>
<p><br/>"And then-" she wraps her arms around his neck again, "We can have a baby?" She suggests softly. She hasn't brought it up since the morning he told her no and she cried because he snapped at her. He smiles now as he leans down to kiss her.</p>
<p><br/>"Whatever you want." He breathes and she giggles when he throws his results somewhere over his shoulder, lifting her up so she can wrap her legs around his torso. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry If there are any errors. I had to upload this with my phone 😬</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You Have a Girls' Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What about Hannah?" She asks from her place on the bed, Francis makes a face and then shakes his head as he buttons up his shirt. </p>
<p>"Ruth?"</p>
<p>"Ew." Her face twists, "It's a baby not some...chick who sells homemade jewelry out of her car in a dyed dress, screaming about dismantling the patriarchy."</p>
<p>"So. That's a no on Ruth?" He questions and she nods like it was obvious. "Okay. Um. What about naming the baby after my mom?" </p>
<p>"I'd rather hang myself with that tie you're holding." She tells him with a sweet smile and he tosses the tie down. </p>
<p>"Please don't."</p>
<p>"This shouldn't be so haaaarrddd." She whines from the bed, pulling the blanket over her head. Naming their kid shouldn't be this difficult, but nothing feels right. She feels the mattress dip a moment later and the comforter is gently pulled away from her face.</p>
<p>"We're over thinking it."</p>
<p>"If we don't over think it, Francis, we'll be condemning our kid to a life of shitty nicknames and never finding their name on souvenirs at Disn-"</p>
<p>"Some people don't name their babies until they're born."</p>
<p>"I don't want to wait that long." </p>
<p>"I know." He says softly, "I know how impatient you can be, believe me." He sighs, "Why are we only discussing girl names? We could be having a boy."</p>
<p>"True." She says softly as she turns over on her side to look at him. "What about Eli?"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"Hmmm. Charlie?"</p>
<p>"My brother's name is Charles." </p>
<p>"Asher." She suggests and he shakes his head, "Well, I don't see you coming up with anything, <em>Francis</em>." </p>
<p>"Hey. Family name." He sounds offended at her slight teasing tone and she giggles softly, leaning in close.</p>
<p>"You have a girls' name." She whispers as she combs her fingers through his hair, "And your hair is kind of girlish too, your parents really never gave you a chance, did they?"</p>
<p>"You're so mean to me." He pouts. "As I said, it's a family name and you can poke fun all you wa-" </p>
<p>"FRANCIS THAT'S <em>IT!</em>" She shrieks it loudly and catches him off guard, shooting up and off the bed when she sits up with a start. </p>
<p>"What!?"</p>
<p>"A family name." She says quickly, "But we're not naming our baby Francis, sorry."</p>
<p>"What do you have in mind?" He asks with a sigh and she crawls over to him, rising on her knees as he stays standing by the bed. She wraps arms around his shoulders.</p>
<p>"Can we name him after my dad?" She asks softly, "James."</p>
<p>"Isn't your brothers-"</p>
<p>"Yes but I hardly see him." She says quickly, "<em>pleaaassseeee</em>?" She drags the plea out before he presses a soft kiss to her lips.</p>
<p>"James." He says softly, "I like it." His hand comes around to rest on her stomach, which protrudes just a bit. "Still need a girl name, just incase."</p>
<p>"We're not naming our baby Ruth." She says with a hard shake of her head.</p>
<p>"It's a good name!"</p>
<p>"It isn't. It isn't, it's awful, Francis." </p>
<p>"Just think about it."</p>
<p>"I'd rather not." She says softly. "Let's take a break." She groans as she pulls away but he pulls her back and she thinks he's going to argue more for <em>Ruth</em>, but he just kisses her. He kisses her until it's deeper and he's trying to ease her back down on the bed but she pushes him back with a groan. </p>
<p>"I want..." she breathes against his lips and maybe he thinks she's going to say you but she takes him by surprise by finishing her statement with, "<em>Popcorn</em>." Well, the baby wants popcorn. With extra butter. And not just <em>any</em> butter,<em> movie theater</em> butter. </p>
<p>She leaps off the bed and makes a mad dash for the kitchen, leaving Francis behind in a cloud of dust.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This one is real short. <br/>Also, I'm sorry to any Ruth's out there. 😂❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This Woman's Work Pt. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>James</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>.</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's pacing the hospital floor, angry, in pain, but mostly </span>
  <em>
    <span>enraged</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Catherine is here, she hasn't left her alone much the last few months and, honestly, she's thankful she was there when her water broke and the contractions started, but Francis isn't here and no one can seem to </span>
  <em>
    <span>find </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's probably with Olivia." She huffs, "Little miss...flat stomach and-" She grips the back of a chair as another contraction hits her like a wave and Catherine is next to her, rubbing her back. "-normal </span>
  <em>
    <span>vagina</span>
  </em>
  <span>." She chokes out the last part of her sentence despite the pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I left him a message." Catherine says soothingly, "It's alright, dear, just breathe."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Call him again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Call. Him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>." She snaps it or growls it, probably both and she usually wouldn't dare take that tone with her mother-in-law, but the woman takes it in stride as she pulls out her phone again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He didn't-" her words are cut off by a loud whine from Mary as she drops down by the bed, sheets clenched between fingers as she begs with everything in her for the pain to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gonna kill hiiiimmm!" She cries against hospital blankets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, get back in bed," Catherine says softly but she shakes her head and stays where she is despite Catherine's hands trying to ease her up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're having a baby." She whimpers, "We're having a baby and he isn't heeeerrree..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Is this a testament to what her life is going to look like? Late nights alone with a newborn, a child constantly asking where their dad is? Francis spending late nights alone in his office while his wife wonders where he is? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She can't do this without him, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>won't</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The doctor needs to check you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Noooo." She whines, face still pressed in the side of the bed, "No one is checking...me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not having this baby until Francis is here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You do know you can't-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I. Said. No." She snaps it harshly as she just tries to breathe through it. No one thought to tell her how badly this hurts. She knew that it would, she just didn't know she would feel like her body was being ripped open by fire ants. "Catherine, Catherine, I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright." She says soothingly as she rubs gentle circles to the small of her back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I want Francis." She whimpers softly. "I want him, where is he?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He'll be here soon." She tells her but she doesn't think Catherine knows that for sure. "Let's get you back in bed." She says soothingly and this time Mary lets her gently ease her back in the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-/-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's covered in sweat and the pain only seems to be getting worse and more frequent and she feels like she can't breathe. Francis still isn't here but the nurse said it was time to start pushing. She clings to the railing on her side, legs firmly shut as she wills her body to listen to her demands. She told them she wasn't pushing until Francis walks his stupid ass through that door and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, it's only going to get wo-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." She gives a hard shake of her head when Catherine reaches to roll her over but she doesn't budge. She clings to the railing with all of her might. "I will...do it...when Francis is here." Getting the words out proves to be quite the challenge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Call him." She begs again and again and each time, Catherine obliges but each time, he doesn't answer. Now, her head is filled with images of him lying in a ditch somewhere, his car twisted around a tree or something and he's not coming, he's never coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If I'm not a widow, I'm going to be." She hisses, "He better be </span>
  <em>
    <span>deaaaadddd-</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis?" Catherine questions, pressing the phone to her ear, "Oh thank god." She sighs, she pauses with an eye roll, "Oh? Is the birth of your firstborn not reason enough to leave?" She asks sarcastically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did he say that!?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, she's in labor." She says over the phone, "Oh, believe me, you don't want me to hand her the phone. Just get here, she's refusing to push." And with that Catherine ends the call and turns back to Mary. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where was he?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Trial." She waves a dismissive hand, "He's on his way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"On his way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, if you wait any longer you risk putting the baby in distress-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's coming." She takes a deep, shaky breath, "Promise?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes." She says soothingly, "You have to try. Okay?" She's trying to pull her away from the railing and she finally let's go of the railing to let her. "Ready?" She asks softly and then she's holding her hand and she thinks this is the closest they've been, at least since that thing with Claude and the pills. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushes twice but she's so exhausted from refusing before that she doesn't think she can do it anymore. Catherine sweeps the soaked hair off Mary's forehead and the nurse says they can take a small break before trying again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm too tired." She whines when Catherine comes around to try and help her sit up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're almost there." She tells her but Mary shakes her head because she's far too tired to keep going and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And she wants Francis but he isn't here yet but he can't miss this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just closes her eyes for a second, just a second but then she feels hands that don't belong to Catherine brushing her hair back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re late.” She breathes as he leans in to press a kiss to her sweaty hair and she pulls her head away with a groan. “No. Mad at you.” She mutters it and if she had more energy, she would roll her eyes at him for the way that he smiles a small smile like she’s joking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you be angry after we have this baby?” Francis asks. She shakes her head, she meant it when she said she doesn't want to do it anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't want to do it.” She breathes but the pain has returned and it’s in full force and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn't make her want to keep going. She’s grabbing him now, nails digging into flesh and he pries her finger off his wrist so that she can grab his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to try.” He whispers it gently, low in her ear, “Just one more, okay? I’m right here.” He’s easing her back up in the right position and then the nurses are moving back to their places. It only takes one, or two, she can't really remember but then she falls back with a huff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I do it?” She asks softly and he’s smiling when he looks back at her, brushing her hair back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did it.” He laughs against her forehead, “You did it, he’s here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why isn't he crying?” The question is pointless a second later because then she hears it, the loud wailing and soft cooing. “That’s miiiine!” She whines when she sees </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>baby in some pink scrubs wearing stranger, she reaches. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re just cleaning him.” Francis laughs when she frowns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s so small…” She whispers when he’s finally in her arms and wrapped in blankets and his eyes are watery but he isn't crying. “I wasn't expecting him to be so little.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He looks like you,” Francis tells her as he reaches to adjust the small hat on the baby’s head. She smiles a small and tired smile at him, she doesn't think she’s angry that he was late anymore, not while she’s holding their son in her arms like this. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Move In?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’re hiding in his room, she’s been staying over since the incident with her mom. When she slapped her and Mary came to him. Kenna and Bash are having a shouting match outside his room. They were all watching a movie together in the living room, Kenna and Mary giggling as they threw popcorn at each other to try and see if the other could catch it in their mouths. Then, Bash had the audacity to leave his phone out while he went to the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just helping a friend, Kenna!” He yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? A friend, I didn't know you had those!” She shouts back, “Does your </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>have a vagina!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He snaps, “But it isn't what you think, Kenna.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn't what I think? Care to explain why she keeps texting you every second of every damn day, Bash.” Francis sighs as he turns the volume up on his laptop and Mary tucks herself in his side with a heavy sigh of her own. They tune them out as much as they can but the slamming of a door makes them both jump. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk!” Bash shouts it at her, “How’s Antoine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?!” Oh boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just saying your </span>
  <em>
    <span>history </span>
  </em>
  <span>with men hasn't been squeaking clean either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just call me a whore?” Mary and Francis both tense at that, because he isn't answering, he isn't saying anything and Francis clicks his tongue against his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hesitate a little longer, buddy,” Francis mutters that as he tries to turn up the movie but it's at max volume now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't.” Kenna’s voice sounds weaker now and frailer, “Don't touch me.” When her voice breaks is when Mary moves, Francis pulls her back against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your brother just called my friend a whore.” She tells him as she twists out of his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let them figure it ou-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let go.” She snaps as she stands and then she’s pulling on her shoes and leaving the room. Francis follows after a while to try and get her to stay but she just links her arm with Kenna’s and she doesn't miss the glare that Francis hits his brother with before she exits. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s sure Francis gave him a lecture on when </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hesitate after they left because when she walks through the door Bash is already spewing apologies at a red rim and puffy-eyed Kenna. Mary convinced her to come back, but she isn't sure if she’s going to forgive him. Francis pulls her back to his room so they can continue the movie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenna okay?” He asks when she’s settled next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she will be.” She says softly, “We got ice cream.” She sighs as she wraps her arms around him and he presses play again, she doesn't hear shouting so she thinks it’s okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later she does hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Francis?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you hear that?” She asks softly and his face twists in confusion before there’s no denying the noise. They both hear the squeaking of mattress springs and soft thumping. “Uuuuhhh-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I don't think...I don't think they’re fighting anymore.” He hums, “Just...ignore it.” He tells her after a while and then he presses play again, but it does little to drown out the noise. The squeaking has picked up the pace, and there are more sounds she never wants to hear again coming from the little room next door. Moaning, whines, grunts. Her face twists as Francis sighs heavily, knocking loudly on the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” He yells, “Quiet down, will ya!” She giggles when she hears them pause. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope we’re not that loud.” She mutters, to be fair they’ve only done it twice. But still. She blushes when he quirks a brow, “Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn't say anything.” He smirks.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“You were going to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mary.” He says softly, suddenly serious, “You’ve been staying here a lot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not bad, at all.” He tells her, “I wanted to ask if you wanted to maybe move in?” Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh </span>
  </em>
  <span>this is sudden. She blinks, what about her mom? Shouldn't he talk to Bash first? Has he already talked to him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn't you ask Bash first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s busy.” He says dryly, doesn't sound like he’ll be busy much longer, the squeaking has slowed down, “And he moved Kenna in without talking to me. So, why can't I do the same for you? Besides, I think he’s assuming you already live here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to live with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um.” She takes a breath and straightens, “I’d like that.” She smiles a wide smile and he does too as he leans in, kissing her gently. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. This Woman's Work Pt. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Prompt: James meeting Anne.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wishes she could remember what this was like the first time, she was hoping with the pregnancy, the memories would flood back in her head. They didn't, but she has this one that keeps playing over and over. It’s just of Francis with a very small James in his arms, rocking him and shushing him and Mary watches in the doorway, the man oblivious to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She came early, out of nowhere, she didn't even realize her water had broken until Francis shook her awake and then they were running around the house trying to make sure everything was ready, and it isn't. They still have a crib to build, but that’s okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She runs her finger over Anne’s soft round cheek. She has long, thick eyelashes and she’s a little jealous about it, soft pale skin, pink cheeks. She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> and all hers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Francis went downstairs to meet his mother and he hasn't come back yet, but she’s thankful for the little time she gets alone with her new daughter because she knows once people start visiting she won't get to hold her as much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ssshh.” Francis shushes the boy whose hand he holds as he walks him in. “Is she sleeping?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In between,” Mary whispers, sometimes her eyes flutter open only to flutter closed again. James stands by the bed, unsure of what to do and she wonders if he’s ever been around a baby this small before. A baby quite literally fresh from the womb and so very new. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did it hurt?” He asks softly when Francis lifts him to set him on the bed beside her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” So. Bad. No one warned her. “But it was worth it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s so little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She laughs softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I…” He starts softly, “Hold her?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course you can.” She smiles a small smile turning her head to Francis but he already knows and is already moving. He’ll need to help him, she isn't really in the position to move much. Her entire body hurts. She scoots a little closer to him, Francis moving him so he can sit next to her, shoulder against shoulder before Mary starts to gently move the baby to his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Watch her head.”  Francis instructs softly, “That’s it.” He says when James seems to have it down enough to tuck the tiny thing in his arms. The baby only whines a little but she settles when Mary reaches to stroke her cheek with her thumb. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think she knows who I am?” James asks softly and Mary shrugs as she blinked back tears, hormones, so many </span>
  <em>
    <span>hormones.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think she does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m your brother.” He tells her anyways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>turns Mary into a bawling mess, which makes Francis laugh a little as he wipes at her eyes with a tissue and she sputters that she swears she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s just too much seeing how big James has gotten and seeing him hold his new sister like she’s made out of glass. Her heart feels like it's about to explode as she sniffles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so cute.” Francis laughs as he wipes her tears off her cheek with a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up.” She sniffles, “Don't make fun of me.” He smirks as he combs his fingers through her hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not.” He says softly as he presses a kiss to her hair, “Look at us, family of four.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m no longer outnumbered.” She jokes she’s not the only girl in the house now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hallelujah</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She puts an arm around James as he holds his sister close and presses a kiss to his curly brown hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Her name is Anne.” She tells him because she doesn't know if Francis told him already, “Isn't she precious?” Francis really wanted to name her Ruth for some reason and he made a comment that he thought she’d go for it the second time around, whatever that meant. She thinks he forgets that she can't really remember past conversations. He just smirked when she said she’d rather die than name their daughter that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anne?” James questions, “Pretty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, I thought so too.” She says, sticking her tongue out at Francis when James isn't looking. He just shakes his head. “What do you think? Can we keep her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” He sighs like he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to think about it and Francis laughs softly as he runs his thumb over the baby’s tiny knuckles. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Valentine's Day Prompt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompt: Mary gets a reservation at a fancy restaurant for their first Valentine's Day as a married couple. Francis forgets and accidentally stands her up.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Mary:</b>
  <span> "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> This would be the third time she's texted him and he hasn't texted her back. She shakes her, throwing her phone down on the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is humiliating,</span>
  </em>
  <span> her mind whispers as she tilts her wine to her lips and may or may not just down the whole glass angrily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Miss." The waiter makes his rounds to her again, smiling a sympathetic smile, she looks up from the table-cloth, "Will the rest of your party be arriving soon?" He asks nervously, it's a polite way of saying, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go home. You've been stood up. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's give him some more time." She says with a small smile, "Could I get some more wine?" It would be her fourth glass. She can't tell if the warmth spreading in her body is from that or the anger that's growing every second she doesn't see him walk through that door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Actually, just leave the bottle." She tells him and he sets it down on the table before walking off. She picks at the dinner roll, popping soft, warm, pieces in her mouth. She checks her phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Mary:</b>
  <span> "</span>
  <em>
    <span>You better have a good reason for this.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" She types out and then sends, he isn't coming, she's starting to realize that now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She got the reservation two weeks ago, she wanted to make sure they got a good table. Because it's Valentine's Day and she wanted to do something special, considering it's the first one as a married couple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn't realize she's crying until the tears drop on the white table-cloth and she wipes at her eyes angrily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Miss?" Ah, her waiter is back, at least he's more consistent than her husband, the corners of his mouth dip, "It's been two hours." He whispers it and she barely hears him over the soft classical music and happy chatter from couples who aren't being stood up by their spouses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll give you more time but...we have other parties waiting." He says it slowly, cautiously. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, that's great.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She's being kicked out of the restaurant, and she didn't even get to order yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn't know whether to laugh or start bawling, she just nods her head as she sifts through her purse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't...don't worry about the check." He tells her, a sympathetic smile on his face and she swallows hard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's being kicked out and she's getting a free bottle of wine and a few dinner rolls out of pity. She wipes at her eyes as she grabs her coat and her purse, her phone doesn't ring. She's a little drunk so she stumbles a bit as she walks out of the restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if the night couldn't get any worse, the universe throws another curveball. The cab breaks down a block away from her house and she has to walk in the rain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So by the time she heads inside, she's soaked and she's been crying and she's so angry she could commit murder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't come home for another hour but when she finally sees his headlights coming up the driveway, she's half a bottle in, still damp, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>seething</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh there's my husband, almost forgot I had one." She smiles sweetly as she leans back in her chair, sipping her </span>
  <em>
    <span>pity</span>
  </em>
  <span> wine from her </span>
  <em>
    <span>pity</span>
  </em>
  <span> waiter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Francis blinks as he closes the door, giving her a questioning look as he sets his bag down and starts taking off his coat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What happened?" He asks softly. Ah, she must make quite the sight, her hair is...a mess, it still sticks in wet strands to her face, her makeup is not salvageable, her dress is wet and wrinkly and she's a bit drunk and a lot of pissed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" She arches a brow, shakes her head, "What happened is that I went through all that trouble to get us a nice table at a ridiculously expensive restaurant for our first Valentine's Day as a married couple and you, yoooouu didn't bother to show-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not done." She snaps, setting her glass down with a slam. She starts to fill it again, "I waited, I called, I texted, I even </span>
  <em>
    <span>emailed</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. Nope. Nothing. And then..." she laughs, "The waiter tells me that he has another party waiting to be seated and that I had to leave." She holds up a finger when she pauses to take a drink, "Good wine, you should have some. Did I mention I got it for free? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pity</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Wine. Francis. So I left the restaurant in tears, which was humiliating and then, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, this is my favorite part."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I got in a cab and it broke down a block away from our house and I had to walk in the pouring rain in my heels and my stupid dress with my pity wine." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Pretty dress." He offers the compliment but it doesn't make her feel better. If anything, it just makes her angrier. She takes another drink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I...Mary, I'm sorry..." he starts and he looks genuinely sorry, but that doesn't make this better. "I didn't realize what today was and I just got that new case and I completely forgot." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gets up, grabbing the neck of the wine bottle and kicking off her shoes. She walks over to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I shaved my legs for </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>." She hisses it, taking a hard step back when he reaches. "Don't. Touch. Me." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What can I do?" He asks and he seems to genuinely feel terrible. As he should. She doesn't say anything, she brushes passed him, heading for the stairs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary!" He shouts after her, the slamming of the bedroom door cuts it off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's still angry days later, doesn't meet his eyes as she gets ready for work and he watches from the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Still not talking to me?" He asks as she zips up her boots in silence. "I said I was sorry." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe the silence thing is cruel and maybe she is being too hard on him. His face makes her chest tighten a bit when she narrows her eyes, but then she remembers why she isn't talking to him in the first place. And she isn't sad about hurting his feelings anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She says nothing as she unhooks her phone from the charger by the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, please." He pouts when she stays quiet. She pulls on her jacket with a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll be home around two." She tells him as she walks by him and down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Two?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Or maybe four." She hums. "Maybe I'll pull a Francis and not show up at all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary..." He says softly as he walks over to her. "I know you're still angry." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Really? How'd you figure that out?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you." He asks in a pleading tone and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> caved in at that, decides being angry about the date thing is silly, but she doesn't. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Figure it out." She snaps as she steps back and leaves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What the hell are you doing here?" She asks when she walks out of the bar to find Francis is standing next to his car waiting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Get in the car." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse me?" She squints at him, stays where she is on the sidewalk but that only makes him walk over to her, grabbing her hand and attempting to pull her over. "Francis-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I figured it out." He tells her with a smirk and she gives him a questioning look. "So, get in the car."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can you please just tell me where we're going?" She asks after several seconds of silence. It's late and she's tired and she doesn't care if she snaps at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm surprised you don't know." He tells her, sounding unbothered by her snapping, though she supposes that he's used to it by now. She hasn't really stopped since he stood her up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I left my detective skills at home."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's okay."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm tired." She breathes a heavy sigh, "Can we </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> just go home?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He hums, "We're here anyways so you might as well try and have fun." She wants to say something to that but she doesn't and just sits back as he pulls into a parking lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The parking lot of the restaurant he didn't bother showing up to a few days earlier. She glares at him as he gets out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you mocking me?" She asks when she joins him outside the car. "Francis, it's not even open." She tells him when he grabs her hand starts pulling her with him. "Franciiiiisss."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stoooppp." He whines back when she doesn't go easily and she's sure this is a funny image. Francis pulling her towards a closed restaurant. In the end, she goes and she's confused to find that the door isn't locked and the lights are on despite the place being empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You know with your line of work I didn't you'd break the law this easily." She mutters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're not." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're breaking in?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He says as he walks behind her to take her coat. She doesn't give it, she'd like to have it when they have to make a run for it. Instead she turns on her heels to look at him, squinting but it makes him roll his pretty blue eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>rented</span>
  </em>
  <span> it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That...sounds expensive." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It was." He says casually, "So sit." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There...there isn't anyone here." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're so cute when you're wrong." He comments as he walks her towards a table and pulls a chair out. This time she does let him take her coat and step it on the back of her chair and then he takes the seat across from her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay I'm intrigued." She tells him, "A little under-dressed but still." She's just wearing an old Iron Maiden shirt and jeans, which isn't what you wear to a fancy place like this. Francis is still in his suit from work which only makes her feel more like some homeless girl he stole off the street. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You look beautiful."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're contractually obligated to say that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How about a second opinion." She doesn't get time to say anything before he presses something on his phone and she hears a door swing open before slamming shut and Bash is here in an apron that makes her struggle not to laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you doing here!?" She asks in a sputter of giggles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell Mary how pretty she is." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stunning, gorgeous, an actual goddess." He says it dryly, "To see you smile is to feel the sun or something gross like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my god."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Your face is otherworldly and don't even get me started on your eyes-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Bash." Francis glares.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like melted honey and caramel had a baby in your irises."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Bash." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And when the light hits them- Goood Lord, my heart stops."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bash</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Honestly, are you even human- </span>
  <em>
    <span>ow</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" He yells after a spoon is flung at him, successfully hitting in right in the side of the head. It makes Mary laugh, even as Bash just glares at Francis. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Bye." Francis waves him back into the kitchen and he mutters something about Charles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Charles?" Mary questions, "Is your whole family back there?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Had to call in reinforcements." He smirks, "So, um, apologies if the food is terrible." She smiles, "It's been awhile since I've seen one of those. Still angry with me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We'll see after the food." She jokes and then she hears the door open again and Kenna comes prancing out, throwing her hair up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kenna?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not Kenna." She says as she hands them a menu, "Sup, cuties, I'm your server for the evening. Full disclosure I have literally no idea what any of this says." She has a pad of paper and a pen but she gasps, "Oh duh, I'll be back in like ten minutes." She says when they're obviously not ready to order yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't think anyone back there has any idea how to make this stuff." Bash is good, but he isn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>fancy gourmet starting at three digits</span>
  </em>
  <span> good. Judging by his face he already thought about that and before she knows it, Kenna is back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah the menus were just for show and I wanted to be here. So." She takes them, giving them a good toss over her shoulder and then sighing. "We're losing daylight people!" She shouts in the direction of the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's midnight." Francis corrects her softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Right." She nods, "We're losing moonlight-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my god." Mary breathes resting her head on the table and trying not to laugh. This is ridiculous and insane and romantic and she hates him but she loves and she can't believe he went this far </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> because she was mad at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry about the wait." Kenna hums when she comes back out with a tray of...of something. "Charles burned the first batch." She tells them as she sets down a plate of macaroni and cheese for both of them and then she's filling their glasses with fresh water and setting a bottle of wine on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How...how do you burn macaroni?" Francis asks and they both laugh when they hear Charles shout from the back, "With a stove!" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary." Francis says softly when everyone else is in the back giving them privacy, "You don't have to actually eat it." He whispers when she forces another forkful down her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, no. It's..." she swallows a few times, takes a drink of her water, "Great." It's not. It somehow has the texture of rubber despite the noodles still being somewhat hard and the cheese sticks to her throat despite the amount of water she downs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn't want to be rude though, so she's determined to finish at least half of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, for my sake, please don't take another bite." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay." She whispers as she sets her fork down and dabs at her mouth with a napkin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dessert tiiiimmme." Kenna sings as she hops out of the kitchen, taking their plates and loading them on an empty tray and then she brings out something that actually looks good. "Courtesy of Leith." She tells them as she sets it in the middle of the table. "Don't worry, the inadequate cooks in the back didn't touch it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Awe." Mary smiles when she sees it, a small cheesecake cut in a heart and topped with strawberries. "I almost don't want to eat it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you don't you know where I am." Kenna smirks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>." She smiles as she grabs her other, bigger, fork. She goes away with a small frown but it's playful so Mary doesn't feel bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Question." Mary says softly as they pull small chunks from the cake in the middle of the table. It wasn't very big before, so they've already almost eaten most of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How'd you do all this?" She asks and with such short notice. Francis just smirks and then shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You were so upset the other night, and I felt so terrible. So. I made a few calls after you fell asleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait." She says quickly, "You've had this...whole thing, planned for </span>
  <em>
    <span>days</span>
  </em>
  <span>!?" She asks, "And you didn't tell me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's the point of a surprise, silly."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You let me be mad at you for days." She pouts, when he could have just told her and she would have forgiven him sooner. He took every snarky remark in stride, every glare, every snap, and the whole time he knew this was going to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well." He leans back, "It was worth it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But now I feel bad for yelling at you." And she doesn't have fancy restaurants at her disposal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I figured out how to make it up to you." He smirks, "I'm sure you can think of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>." His eyes are suggestive and she swallows hard before chewing at her lip, stomach flipping excitedly at that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You want to get out of here?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll grab the cake." He says quickly and then they're moving, quickly and quietly, they sneak out of the restaurant in a fit of giggles.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was supposed to go up yesterday but a gifset I was working on absolutely consumed any amount of free time I had. So. Here ya go. <br/>I hope everyone had a lovely Valentine's Day. 💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Five Stages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Slight warning this has some strong language.<br/>Well, just the one phrase, you'll...you'll see it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She’s been a really shitty wife the last few days, taking out her anger with her mother on Francis. He doesn’t deserve it, she knows that, and she thought after the good cry at the funeral home fixed it but it didn’t. He’s been so patient though, so loving, supportive, he’s let her yell as much as she wants at him. But the one thing she wants desperately is for him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight back.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, they can just get in one long screaming match that didn't mean anything, and then maybe, mercifully, she would start to move onto a different stage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” She asks when his eyes meet hers in the long mirror in their bedroom, he looks...well, he looks upset. She just shakes her head as she removes her earrings and sets them down with a slight slam. She’s in a black dress, the one she wore to the funeral, some friends of her mother's who couldn't make it to the funeral, had a memorial service today. Old friends from rehab that Mary never met or hardly even knew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s still staring at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to say anything or are you just going to stare?” She asks with a shake of her head as she reaches down to unhook the strap to her heels from her ankle. “Fine.” She huffs when he still doesn't say anything, she just walks out of the room. James is crying and </span>
  <em>
    <span>apparently </span>
  </em>
  <span>she’s the only one who can do anything about it. It doesn't take him long to calm back down and get him back to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Francis still follows her around like a lost puppy and she snaps at him to move when she slams into him on the way to the kitchen. He just follows, watches her pour a glass of water, squints when she glares. She slams it down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Francis?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A or B?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter with a tilt of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A or B?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know...I don't-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pick one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't have time for this.” She sighs as she brushes past him and stops on the stairs when he starts to explain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Option A, while it would not be my first choice it’s ultimately up to you. Option A, would entail you picking literally anything, I don't care what, and we’re going to fight about it. I don't mean like some...tiny, small disagreement over who left the milk carton on the counter all night, no, we’re going to have a long, loud, shouting match, a check and make sure the baby is still asleep- good old fashioned </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming</span>
  </em>
  <span> match. Okay? So that’s option A.” She drums her fingers on the railing and swallows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And option B?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re going upstairs and you’re taking your frustrations out with something that would be more beneficial to both of us.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Option B is sex.” She says flatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rough and dirty, whatever you want.” He shrugs, “Because I can't take another night of you staring at me like you want to kill me.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth as she squints at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if I don't want to pi-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to fight me or do you want to fuck me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Francis</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Her face twists at the way he phrased that, but he just stands there and waits for an answer. “I’m going to bed.” She says with a scoff and a shake of her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A or B?” He asks and she doesn't turn around or look at him, he just keeps asking, “A or B, A or B, A or B, A-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A! Please just shut up!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn if only</span>
  <em>
    <span> one </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the options I presented involved zero dialogue!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn't want to at the funeral.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>that sentence?” He asks with a quirk of his brow, “Honey, we were at a </span>
  <em>
    <span>funeral</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what you want to fight about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then pick something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>1 a.m.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dirty clothes go in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>dirty clothes </span>
  </em>
  <span>hamper!” Francis shouts, they’ve breezed through a magnitude of small topics, like loading the dishwasher the </span>
  <em>
    <span>correct </span>
  </em>
  <span>way, even though he insists that there isn't a correct way. They fought about what day the trash is supposed to go out, groceries, bills, the wallpaper, the sky being too blue. When he said anything, he really meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which one is that they all look the same!” She shouts back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you know we have one considering all of your clothes end up on the damn floor!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re no better!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I left one sock on the floor, one time-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It was more than once and you know it!” She yells as she returns to the living room where he is and they both pause to look at the baby’s room. It’s quiet and she’s surprised he hasn’t woken up yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it was, but it pales in comparison with how messy you are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You knew I was messy when you asked me to marry you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't ask, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>asked and it was beautiful!” He yells and she rolls her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>2 a.m.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh look I’m Mary, I don't have taste buds!” He mocks when she tells him she doesn't get what's so popular about pineapple on pizza and she gasps, “It’s not about the taste, it's the saltiness of the pizza mixing with the sweetness of the pineapple.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds disgusting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“IT’S NOT!” He shouts that loudly and she jumps but that launches her into a full-scale attack. She starts yelling about his need to work all the time and it goes from slightly playful, to very serious in the blink of an eye. Now, he isn't faking being angry for her to vent, he’s actually angry. Which is what she wanted from the very beginning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re never here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't start with that, Mary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? I’m just telling the truth.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I wouldn't have to work so much if you hadn't quit your job.” He says, “Hm? Did you think about that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I shouldn't have quit because now I have to sit at home all day wondering when my husband will feel like coming home at a decent hour! Sitting there knowing who you’re with for most of the day doesn't help either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Olivia.” She says, “With her pretty blonde hair and her tight dresses.” He rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You bring her up in every fight, real or fake, it doesn't matter. Why can't you let it go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let it go?” She asks with a scoff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She has nothing to do with-” He’s cut off when she starts to climb up the stairs. “Where are you going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Screw you, Francis!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was an option!” He shouts at her but it's cut off by the slamming of a door. He doesn't follow, he probably assumes she doesn't want him to come to bed with her so he stays put. When she comes back, still angry, he’s sitting on the couch with a late night talk show on; seemingly a little bit calmer. She places herself in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” She says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Is all he gives her and then he reaches but she smacks his hand away, which makes him look at her like he’s confused. She swallows hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still angry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanna change my answer.” She says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can...Can I still pick option B?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. You know, I’m kinda tired.” He says as he stands but he still grabs her hand and starts to pull her upstairs. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow hi, I've been neglecting this for a hot minute, sorry I'm back, leave me some prompts. They can be anything.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Birthdays Pt 1 (Prompt)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Prompt: "I'd love to see one of their birthdays!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want for your birthday?” Francis asks suddenly, as though he just thought of the question or he just realized how close that day actually is. She doesn't miss a beat in her answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A baby.” She tells him as she sifts through the mail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking maybe something I could...I don't know, wrap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can wrap a baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary...no, no that’s frowned upon.” He jokes as he ties his tie and looks around for his keys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't really want anything.” She says softly as she sets the mail down and walks over to him. She starts to fix his collar, which he lets her do even though he’s in the middle of doing it himself. “I have everything I could ever want right here.” She smiles a sweet smile as she kisses his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute.” He chuckles, “Now tell me the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is the truth.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Okay so if I don't get you anything, you won't be angry?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean a card would be nice.” She shrugs and he smiles as he presses a soft kiss to her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be home in time for Kenna’s thing.” He tells her as he gets dressed. She’s still in bed and her only response is a groan and a,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told her I didn't want a partyyyy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When has she ever listened?” He asks with a smirk, “It’ll be fun. It’s your birthday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One year closer to death.” She mutters into her pillow and that makes him scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sunshine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She feels the mattress dip a little and then his lips against her hair and she peeks around her pillow to see he’s ready to leave. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She groans as she reaches her hand out and snags his wrist, “Call in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Please? Say you’re sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can't do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you can. It’s easy, you just have to cough a little…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my birthdaaayyy.” She whines the sound stretches until it threatens to break the windows and he eventually just puts a hand over her mouth. “You’re sick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes.” She smiles as she sits up and then she’s crawling over to the edge of the bed, still holding onto him as she rises on her knees. “It’s my birthday.” She says again, softly, with a pout as she wraps her arms around his neck. He looks like it almost works but he sighs before detangling himself from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will be back-” He’s cut off by Mary’s groan and the next words are said with a light laugh, “In time for your party. Where is it again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenna and Bash’s apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He smiles, “I love you.” He says softly when she flops back down on the bed with a frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenna went all out for today, there are pink and gold ribbons and balloons and there’s a huge cake in the center of the dining room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a little excessive.” She comments as she walks in and finds Bash is still blowing up more balloons with an air pumper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve never had a birthday party before.” Kenna says with a shrug, “Did you see the cake?” She starts to guide her through all of her decorative decisions, all while barking orders at Bash. It’s true, she’s never had a birthday party, no cakes with candles to blow out, no presents. She’s lucky if her mother remembers what </span>
  <em>
    <span>month </span>
  </em>
  <span>it is most of the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we late?” Greer and Lola come in an hour later and Greer has little Rose on her hip. She’s almost one and so so cute. Mary feels like her face is going to break from smiling. “I couldn't find her blanket and then she lost a shoe…” Greer hands the baby off to Mary with a sweet smile, “And then Mary stole my baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She isn't paying attention to the rest of the conversation, she just holds Rose in her lap and coos, and lets the tiny thing play with her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greer you can't bring a baby to this party.” Kenna scolds playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else was I supposed to get Mary for her birthday?” Greer says matter of factly, “What did you get her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something she can't open in public,” Kenna says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “And something that Francis can enjoy too. Oh, Mary, I was a little uncertain about your size, but I figured it wasn't staying on very long so it didn't really matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s disgusting.” Mary coos as she lifts up Rose high in the air and then brings her back down, laughing when the baby laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She isn't even listening to me.” Kenna says with a sigh, “Mary, I have a huge crush on your husband I think I might steal him.” Mary’s too busy playing with a baby to care at the moment. Bash on the other hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too, Kenna!” He shouts from the other room. Speaking of Francis. She settles Rose on her lap as she pulls out her phone. He doesn't answer and she gets a sinking feeling in her gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour goes by and she isn't the only one wondering where the hell her husband is. Her mood has soured, so much so that even playing with Rose doesn't make her feel much better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna try and call him again…” Mary says softly as she walks to the bathroom to get a little privacy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary,” Francis answers after the first ring, “I know, I’m running late.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you are coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I told you I would.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just had to go pick up your present.” He tells her, “I’ll be there soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary, you have so little faith in me.” He says with a sigh, “Yes. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She says softly, she feels better now that he’s actually answering the phone and she knows he isn't dead in a ditch somewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shows, but he doesn't bring her present, he tells her it’s not for her to open in front of everyone. Which makes her ask if he got her lingerie, but he swears that’s not what it is. Besides, he heard that Kenna </span>
  <em>
    <span>had that covered</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I didn't want anything.” She tells him when they're home and she’s kicking off her heels. Francis puts the rest of the cake away and then carries the gifts inside, she only opened some. She’s half afraid to open Kenna’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so do you want me to send it back?” He asks with a quirk of his brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He smiles, “Close your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not tricking me?” She asks once she closes them and she feels a big box hit her lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, you can open them now.” When she does she finds a long box in red wrapping paper, “Open it.” He pushes it closer to her as he sits beside her on the couch with a bright smile that only makes her more excited. She tears into the shiny red paper and looks in confusion at what she’s met with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Francis.” She says softly, the smile fading, “It’s a baby doll.” A cute one, she’ll give him that, in a small pink dress and rosy cheeks. “I love you.” She says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this a joke?” She asks softly, “Is this funny to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I wanted a baby and you...you bring me a doll. I’m…” She can't even find the right words to describe how </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> she feels, how she can't even begin to believe that he would do something so- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sets the “gift” on the floor and jerks away when he reaches. “No.” She says quickly as she tries to get away from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary, wait- that’s not-” He’s cut off by the slamming of the bathroom door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave me alone.” She sniffles when he tries to open the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mary please…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You took it wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>the wrong one.” She cries softly, “You’re the one who thought it would be funny to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just open the door, that wasn't it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't want anything else, it was a bad present.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open the door.” He pleads softly and she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand before standing from the edge of the bathtub. She opens the door slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn't open the card.” He says softly as he hands her something in a light green envelope. She doesn't take it right away, she sniffles a bit more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another joke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Open it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don't want to-”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Open it.” He sounds desperate, so she takes it and pulls the card out slowly. “I had to go to three different stores to find it, that’s why I was so late.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this?” She whispers as she holds it in shaking fingers. It’s just a pink card that says ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Soon to be Mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ on it but he crossed out mom and wrote pregnant under it and now she’s confused because he...he doesn't want kids. They’ve fought about it hundreds of times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” He asks, “I admit, giving you the doll first probably wasn't the smart way to go about it…but I thought you’d read the card right after, I didn't think you’d get so upset-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Francis.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it.” She says softly, “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want a baby too.” He tells her seriously and she drops the card on the floor before grabbing him to pull him down to her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean it?” She presses soft kisses wherever she can and it makes him giggle softly as he pushes her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He smiles, “You still want to, right?” She can only nod frantically because speaking is too much for her right now. “Okay.” He whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She says softly and the hurt she felt before is gone now as she pulls him back to her lips, but he pulls away for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you could open Kenna’s gift now?” He asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>STOP THEY'RE TOO CUTE</p><p>Suggestions for Francine's birthday pleassseeeeeee!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Hospital Bells</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one is a bit angsty</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I brought you some clothes to change into." Francis tells her when she comes out from her shower. She threw on one of his shirts and brushed her hair out completely. Francis is flipping through something on the bed, doesn't look up when she comes out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He somehow convinced her to leave the hospital and go to the hotel he got them nearby so that she can sleep. She can say honestly that she still probably won't, worried knots twist in her stomach when she thinks about James being alone in his hospital room, that anything can happen and she won't know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Francis does look up, he sees her picking at the skin of her fingers and he sighs heavily as pulls the blankets back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Come here." He says lightly. She's crawling in the bed a few seconds later and he pulls her to his chest so he can comb his fingers through her wet hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's all alone." She says softly, she's somehow convinced herself that he'll die if she sleeps. She won't be awake to call for help, she isn't even there now. Her stomach twists violently and the only thing keeping her from getting up is Francis's arm tightening around her waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Would you feel better if I went back?" He asks just as softly, which tells her that he was already thinking about if before she said anything. Maybe he was realizing that leaving the hospital wasn't the best decision for two worried parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Only if you go to sleep." He says. "You haven't slept-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll try..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay." He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head and then he's sliding out from under her. "I'll call you if anything happens, or I will come and get you." He explains as he sifts through his bag for clean clothes, "But that doesn't mean hang by your phone all night or watch the door, okay?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What if I don't hear my phone?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then I will come and pick you up." He says as he pulls on a clean shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What if-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay but-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis, wha-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I will call you or I will come back for you if I need to." He says it slowly as he comes around to her side of the bed. She nods. "Try and get some sleep, okay? Turn your ringer up for extra comfort." She grabs him when he goes to get up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't call." She says quickly, "If something happens...just come get me? I won't be able to drive if-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay." He nods and then he's kissing her cheek and leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has a nightmare, only sleeps long enough to call it a cat nap. Maybe a half an hour and she can't go back to sleep now, so she watches her phone under the covers and she watches the time change. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From two to four, four to six, six to-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opens and closes with a soft click and she hears his footsteps approach her. She closes her eyes to at least pretend to sleep, she's sure Francis meant for her to sleep the whole night not just thirty minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary," Francis says her name gently but there's something about it that makes her stomach plummet and she turns over, sitting up with a worried expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" She asks as he sits next to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He..." There's a pause after </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span>, only a small gap of silence but it closes around her throat like a fist because her mind is already filling it. "He was fine all night, until an hour ago."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis." She warns softly if this man tells her that her son is dead, she won't forgive him or herself for not being there. "Please-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"His heart stopped-" She thinks there's more but she stopped being able to hear after that. Deafness being replaced with a loud ringing as every bone in her body feels as though they're breaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No!" She cries, puts her hands over her ears so she doesn't have to hear more and Francis shifts next to her, reaches but she turns away. It's her fault for going to sleep, she knew it. She knew her baby would die if she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I should have been there!" She's pretty sure she's screaming as she caves in on herself and she doesn't even realize that Francis is shaking her, trying desperately to get her to </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They got him back!" He says when he moves her to look at him. "They got him back but he was down for a minute and he had to be moved back to the ICU, but he's...he's alive, Mary." This has taken a toll on Francis, Mary only had to hear about it, Francis had to see it. "He's alive." He whispers that and she thinks that he's leaving something out. That he isn't saying whatever else the doctors said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's alive but for how long?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm afraid he's going to die." She whispers through a small sob and Francis pulls her to him, holding her tightly and she thinks she hears him say me too, but that could be her imagination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn't move for two days, she doesn't eat or sleep. Francis is back to trying to force her to eat something, anything. But he isn't as pushy now, he hasn't moved much either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"When do you think he can be moved out of the intensive care unit?" Francis asks a nurse when she walks in. She doesn't have much of an answer for them. She tells them it won't be discussed until he starts to show some sort of sign of improvement. Which he hasn't done yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do they make caskets that small?" Mary asks in a hoarse voice, it's not the first time she asks it either. It's the only question she has.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We can discuss end of life plans if it comes to it, right now let's not think like that." The girl says in a rehearsed voice and Francis comes around to Mary's side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure we can ask someone if it comes to it, my love." He whispers softly as he kisses her cheek and Mary watches as the nurse checks James' vitals and writes some things down and then she leaves. "How about we take a walk, hm?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, maybe later." He says softly, "Maybe you could lie down on the couch for a little bit?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Francis went outside with Bash because Bash needed a cigarette. Smoking at a hospital should be banned, but whatever. Mary's alone in the room with James when she hears the click-clack of heels approach the open door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." Olivia says awkwardly when Mary looks up, "I...um...Francis-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Downstairs." She supplies dryly as she squints at her. What the hell is she doing here? Olivia is wearing a tight skirt and a white blouse, heels, she looks too dressy to be here. She's carrying a large manilla folder and a small basket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Could you...give this to him?" She asks as she takes a step forward. When Mary doesn't object, she takes a few more and then she's setting whatever it is she brought on the little table beside Mary. She looks at James.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How is he?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dying." Olivia is quiet. "What's that?" Mary gestures at the basket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh um, Francis mentioned that you hadn't been eating. And Hospital food is...well, its gross. So I thought maybe you'd like some muffins from that bakery you and Francis used to go to-" it should make her happy, grateful, but for whatever reason, this gesture only succeeds in filling her with rage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Olivia hands her the basket and she starts to look through it, sure enough, there are enough muffins and other baked goods inside to feed the entire hospital staff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mary swallows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My son is dying and you thought muffins were going to fix it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no, that wasn't-" Olivia jumps when Mary sends the stupid basket to the ground with a loud slam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Get out." She snaps, "You have a lot of nerve showing up here anyways, get out!" Mary shouts it and she shoves Olivia back hard, towards the open door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just wanted to help-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I SAID LEAVE!" She screams and now people are looking and there are members of the hospital staff headed their way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, that's enough." Francis snaps it, comes between them, Bash is telling the security watching that it's a very stressful time and Mary is just tired. It holds them off for a bit and when Mary steps back. Francis turns to Olivia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, she hasn't slept."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine, Francis, I understand." She says softly with a small and reassuring smile, "I should go." Before she leaves though, she touches his arm and while that would seem normal to some people it sends Mary into another fit of rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hands off, stupid bi-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary." Francis snaps harshly when he whirls around and Olivia doesn't waste any time exiting the room. "You didn't have to be like that, she was trying to help."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your girlfriend's feelings?" She asks coldly as she picks up the broken basket and tosses it at a chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't do this right now, Mary." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't do what?" She asks harshly, "What the hell possessed her to show her face here? Hm? How did she even know what room to go to? The bakery we used to have lunch at?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you confiding in her now?" She sounds pathetic, angry, jealous and Bash's eyes dart between them uncomfortably. "Maybe had a few therapy sessions between her legs?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Bash, give us a minute," Francis says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell you what, I'll give you two," Bash says quickly as he turns and leaves, closing the door behind them for added privacy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Francis doesn't yell or argue, he simply stands there and shakes his head before swallowing his anger down and walking over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You haven't been sleeping, you're tired and you're stressed-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And your ex who's still in love with you brought me muffins." She adds with fake sweetness, rolling her eyes. "She shouldn't have even thought about coming here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah yes, and doing something nice, trying to help you, what a manipulative shrew." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She didn't come here for me, she came here for you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes to drop something off, because I asked her to. She brought you something to eat because she was worried about you, Mary. At some point, you have to stop finding fault in every single thing she does." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe if she'd stop making eyes at my husband-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She touched you just now." Francis looks absolutely fed up with Mary at the moment, he runs his hands over his face with a heavy breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If we're going to do this, we're going outside."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He snaps, "We can't do this right now." He tells her seriously and she turns away when he approaches, goes back to James, and sits in her plastic chair by his bed. It's quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm just doing what you want."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're not doing this right now, remember?" She says coldly, doesn't even look at him. Just watches her son's chest rise and fall with his slow breathing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Do Me, Baby (Prompt)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: Coitus interruptus.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"You're home early." She's surprised to see him walk through the door before midnight. Usually, she's lucky to see him after two. "Why?" She asks with a squint as she watches him take off his jacket and fold it over the back of the couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe I missed you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's never made you leave early before." Her squint becomes more suspicious and it makes him roll his eyes as he walks over to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I got my paperwork done earlier than expected." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why can't you get it done earlier than expected every night?" She pouts a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because it varies in the amount, Mary." He tells her with a smirk, "Do you want me to start bringing it home again?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. Not after last time." She says quickly. Mostly because then he'd be busy <em>at home</em>, and also because when he used to do that; Mary opened a folder she wasn't supposed to while he was in another room and was met with crime scene photos of a dead body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So. No. He can keep that at his office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I told you not to open it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, but it only made me want to open it more."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And what did we learn?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't open your work folders." She says softly with a frown. "Do they just give you pictures? Do you ever...go...see?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Crime scenes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We just...we don't really talk about what you actually do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because it's not to be brought home." He says and then he sighs heavily, "I go...to all of them, Mary." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The police let you do that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"A lot of times it's required." He shrugs, "They're used to it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." She nods, "It doesn't bother you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're full of questions tonight." He jokes as he toys with a strand of her hair. "What kind of person would I be if it didn't? Let's stop talking about this now." He doesn't give her time to ask him any more questions before pulling her in. He kisses her softly at first but then it steadily grows into something that succeeds in setting her entire body on fire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he pulls away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where are you going?" She asks when she sees that he isn't pulling her upstairs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I want to check on our son." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't kiss me like that and then walk away."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It'll just take a second." He tells her before disappearing behind James' door. He's only in there for a minute and then he's closing the door with a soft click and walking back over to his abandoned wife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Still sleeping?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like a rock." He smirks and then he's grabbing her hand and they both make a break for the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sssshhh." Francis bites back a laugh when she attempts to move further up the bed and slams her head against the headboard. Which was followed by a loud curse and an <em>ow</em>. "The embodiment of grace." He jokes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up." She hisses with a glare and he reaches to press a soft kiss to her new wound and then he's crawling over her. "Am I bleeding?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He smiles, "Are you okay?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah." She says softly and when he doesn't say anything else, she lifts herself up on her elbows and kisses him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's a few more accidents, some more giggling, a lot more <em>shushing</em> before they finally get serious about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They're whispering each other's names between heavy breaths and long kisses, the mattress moves under them at a gradually growing pace and her nails sink into the skin of his shoulders at some point, making him hiss against her neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way he kisses her after that tells her he didn't really mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They're right in the middle when things start to get really good when she hears a noise from downstairs. She halts all movement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you hear that?" She asks when he looks at her with confusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He whispers back. "James is sleeping." He reassures her quietly as he goes back to pressing soft kisses to her neck, "Like a rock, remember?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Right." She says softly and she turns her head to kiss him again, and they get back to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She forgets her worries for a little bit but lets out a shriek that mirrors the smaller one at the small figure in the now open doorway. She shoves Francis off of her and scrambles to cover herself with a blanket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The child runs off and Francis sputters laugh that has Mary glaring at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I told you I heard something." She whines as she pulls the blanket over her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, it happens." He says, "Honestly shocked it hasn't happened sooner."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Go talk to him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't go talk to him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?" She snaps. He clears his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You really want me going down there with the flag still at half staff?" Obviously he thinks this is hilarious because then he adds, "Hey while you're down there-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis, I swear to god." She glares as she throws the blanket aside and starts to put her clothes back on. "What do I say?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're asking me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What did your parents do when...your siblings or...you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You want to know what my parents did?" He asks with a quirk of his brow and she nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, my father is dead and my mother was negligent, I was basically an orphan. So. Yes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Unapologetic, blunt, and brutal honesty. Do you want to scar him <em>more</em>?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Jesus-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We could use the talk my father gave me after I caught him with my preschool teacher bent over her desk." He says it so casually. She blinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sometimes I feel like we're competing over whose childhood was more shitty."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going downstairs or getting back in bed?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>James is sitting on the edge of his bed when she walks into his room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey buddy," she says lightly as she closes the door. "Um..." Yeah, she has no idea where to go from here but he's looking at her with so much confusion it makes her heart hurt. She doesn't even know what he saw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Was...daddy hurting you?" He asks it so softly and she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry or <em>both</em>. The notion that Francis would ever hurt her is absurd, but he's just a kid and he doesn't know what he saw. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"N...no." She says softly as she walks over and sits next to him, "He would never hurt me..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then what were you guys doing?" Sinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um..." She didn't think when she signed onto this parenting thing, it would include giving the sex talk to an almost-four-year-old, but here she is. Where the hell is Francis?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mommy?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sometimes...well..." She stops again when there's a knock and then Francis has joined the conversation, which is great as he's much better at the whole talking thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except for the fact that James looks terrified of him. Which makes Francis give her a confused look until she walks over and whispers, "He thinks you were hurting me." In his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh no, the opposite. I seem to remember you were thoroughly enjoying yourself."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis. Not the time." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If anything mommy was hurting me." She smacks him, "Putting that manicure to good use." She smacks him harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ow. See?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis." She hisses. Oh if he <em>ever</em> wants to do anything with her <em>again</em>, he better shut the hell up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, okay." He's serious now, well, <em>more serious</em> than he has been, "Give me a few minutes." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you going to tell him?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Trust me." He says as he pushes her out of the room. "Unapologetic, blunt, and brutal honesty."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you dare!" He just smirks as he closes the door in her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She got herself a small bowl of ice cream while she waits, giving Francis a glare to end all glares when he joins her in the kitchen a few minutes later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't look at me like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You locked me out."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The door doesn't have a lock."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever." She mutters, "What'd you say to him?" She asks as he walks over and he sighs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just that sometimes when two people are in love, they show it in a private, physical way and that he would understand when he's older." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He didn't have a lot of questions." He says, "He's three, darling, it isn't rocket science."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Also took the liberty in informing him that's how he got here." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What, he was going to ask eventually, might as well get ahead." He smiles at her groan as she runs her hands over her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Great. You told him how we made him." She says dryly. She's sure that'll open some doors to some awkward questions later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mhm." He hums, "Right here," he points at the island they're standing at, "Remember that night?" Of course, she does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The night of Leeza's wedding rehearsal." She says softly, "I remember." She smiles a fond smile at the memory that mirrors his own. She remembers they were drunk and laughing and so caught up in each other they didn't even notice the cab stop at their house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn't even make it upstairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kisses her like before and she sighs into it but pulls away eventually with a shake of her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's sleeeeppiiiinngg." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I seem to remember <em>someone</em> uttering that same thing moments before he crashed through our door." She hums. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, he's sleeping." He says again and she squints at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like a rock?" She asks lightly with a quirk of her brow. She walks over to the sink with her mostly empty ice cream bowl but before she sets it down. She makes sure he's looking her in the eyes when she does it. She takes her spoon and she licks the excess sugary treat off with one stroke of her tongue, puts the bowl of her spoon between her lips, and then out with a pop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She's pretty sure the man blacks out for a second. She tosses the spoon in the sink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Night." She says with a yawn and when she walks away she lets her hips sway more than usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You goddamn <em>temptress</em>." She hears him say and she speeds up on the stairs when she hears his footsteps, which makes him speed up. This results in a full-speed chase and both of them laughing when she almost trips on the last step. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're really bad at the quiet thing." He laughs when he uses her back to close the bedroom door. She just smirks as she reaches behind herself and twists the lock in place.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. I Think I've Seen This Film Before Pt 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He comes home at eleven after promising to be home by nine. She stopped asking him to be home by dinner, that was apparently too much for him to do. She tries to swallow it down, bite her tongue, he's busy. He's always busy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There's some food in the fridge." She tells him when he walks into the kitchen, he looks tired. They're both so tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright." He says, she straightens, squints.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You already ate, didn't you?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Olivia...brought me-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course she did," Mary mutters that and he shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't start." He sighs heavily, "Not tonight."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not starting anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then stop looking at me like that." He says without even turning around, he turns the tap on and starts to fill a glass. She's quiet but only for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You've been spending a lot of time with her." Less and less time with Mary, getting him to touch her is like pulling teeth lately. He's hardly seen, James. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Might have something to do with me working with her." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're never here." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary." He shakes his head again like he knows where this is going and he turns around to look at her. "I don't want to do this right now, can we just-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just want to talk to you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then talk, stop making snide remarks." It seems like a fair request but it just makes her stomach twist. She's quiet for too long, "What? What are you so angry about?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You spend every waking moment with her and I get you for five minutes. It isn't even very pleasant because I get you like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> like you'd rather be anywhere else other than here with your wife and your child. Who called Bash dada yesterday, by the way, god, I wonder why he did that, really is puzzling." She spats and then it all just comes rushing out, like an angry waterfall of noise, "You waltz through the door at ten if I'm lucky, recount your day to me for five seconds, and then you go upstairs and you go to bed. And I've been trying to not let it get to me, but it's been </span>
  <em>
    <span>months </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I can't take it anymore."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't say anything. He just stands there like he's waiting for something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Olivia-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, stop bringing her up. I can't keep having the same fight with you. Don't bring her into this, please."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She's already in it. She's been in it since day one, Francis." She snaps, "literally! Who was it who crashed our first date again?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're going to hold that over me for the rest of our lives, aren't you?" He asks. She doesn't say anything, she's afraid to say anything else or she may explode and James is sleeping, she doesn't want to wake him but she's so frustrated and angry and he just keeps looking at her like she's gone insane. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We had a baby." She tells him, "And you've hardly been here since. And you..." she shakes her head. He hasn't really touched her since. It's been months now and he's been spending so much time with Olivia and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What, Mary?" It's not a snap, it's not casual either, she can tell he's getting irritated and that makes it worse for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why can't you just admit that you don't want me anymore?" It's said loudly, only a few notches under what would constitute it as a shout. Francis makes a face like he can't believe she just said that, that she even thought it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he laughs. Like he actually laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're serious?" He asks, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>that's</span>
  </em>
  <span> what this whole thing has been about? Are you kidding me?" He shakes his head for what feels like the thousandth time. "You keep bringing up Olivia, how I'm never here, you basically called me a lousy husband and father and it all boils down to our sex life. I don't understand." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, he's angry now or just so annoyed he doesn't care at this point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just tell me you don't trust me." Francis says, "Go ahead. You have convinced yourself that I'm having an affair, let's go. Get it over with. Say it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You having an affair never left my mouth." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I think we were getting there." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Look at the damn facts, Francis!" She shouts it, he's right she was getting there, "You are with her every second of every day, and it wouldn't be that bad if she wasn't your ex-girlfriend! You come home late at night every night, you barely look at me, you're never here!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stop saying that!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's the truth!" She shouts it at the top of her lungs and when did they get this close? She steps back with a sharp breath. His jaw clenches and unclenches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, so they're doing this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I've been working a lot." He tells her, "How else are we supposed to support this family?" He asks with a tilt of his head, "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have a baby, Mary."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You wanted one too." She tells him slowly, remembering her birthday and the stupid gift he got her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You said you wanted to try." She adds because he did say that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You didn't give me much of a choice!" He shouts that too and she feels like she's choking. "What would have happened if I had said no </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> If I told you I wanted to wait just a little bit longer </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>?! You would have left, or we would have gotten into another fight about it. We had hundreds of those, I couldn't..." he runs his hand over his eyes and she swallows hard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you lied to me." She says softly, "Oh my god..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wasn't ready...And I thought we had the time and then-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I got pregnant." Oh the pieces are coming together now and she's so pissed she can barely breathe. "Francis..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Were you hoping we wouldn't?" She asks softly and his face, oh it tells her he was and he's ashamed of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My parents had trouble conceiving...I thought-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You were hoping we'd have trouble too." She feels like she's about to get sick, and her next question is even harder to get out, "Were...were you hoping for a miscarriage? God, think these next words carefully-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He's sincere in that, as far as she can tell, "No I was so happy we were having him-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But now you regret it." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't say that-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You didn't have to." She steps back when he steps forward. "You resent him. Our son. Our little baby...he didn't do anything wrong...do you hate me now too? Is that why you're never here, you can't stand to be around us?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, no, that's not-" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Get your hands off me!" She shrieks it when he reaches and it causes him to take a step back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-" he's interrupted by the loud, small wailing from the nursery and she takes a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." She says quickly when he moves towards it, "I'll get him. Wouldn't want to burden you any further."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaves when he's at work, after a few days of silence and her sleeping in the nursery with the door locked. She packs a bag, loads up James and she goes to Greers. She has an extra bedroom that Mary can stay in until she figures out what happens next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Have you tried to talk to him since the fight?" Greer asks while they watch James and Rose play on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe he didn't mean it how it sounded."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sounded pretty clear to me." She says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You were angry-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I still am." Greer doesn't ask about it anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He calls her but she doesn't answer, he just keeps calling until she turns her phone off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few more days, she lets herself listen to the voicemails. Most of them are just asking where the hell she went, others are begging her to come home. Or at least tell him she's okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know you're at Greers." He says and he sounds tired, stressed, "Please just...just call me back. I need to hear your voice..." she deletes that one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary." He sounds a little angrier in this one, "Answer the phone or I swear to god, I'll go over there. Please, this is absurd. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Childish</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You have to talk to me at some point." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Delete.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I love you and I love James and you have to come back home before I go insane. I'll quit my job if you want. I'll do whatever you want."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Delete.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next one is just him holding the phone up to a speaker playing "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Baby Come Back</span>
  </em>
  <span>" that would make her laugh in any other situation. This one, not so much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She deletes it with a roll of her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greer laughs though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry." She says when Mary glares. "It was...cute."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shut up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Just call him." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have a child together." She says, "He's probably sick with worry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Or he's celebrating."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not calling him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She just puts the kids to bed when there's a loud knock on the door. When Greer opens it, Francis doesn't waste any time pushing his way through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where's my son?" He asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"In bed." Greer answers, "Yes please come in." She adds sarcastically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I want to see him." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure, but if you wake up my daughter I'll kick your ass." She says that quite seriously and maybe she's a little annoyed that Francis is here so late at night. Mary doesn't come out of the guest room so she can't tell what that does to his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn't matter, a few minutes later he has James in his arms and she can hear him telling the boy how much he's missed him and how big he seems to have grown and he sounds happy. She has to keep herself from going out there. He even talks to Greer a bit, until the minutes tick by and James falls back asleep. Greer takes him back to bed before turning in herself, with a firm "No yelling" before the door closes and hers opens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey..." Francis starts before closing the door with a soft click.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I need to explain this one because um, it was supposed to be in the original story, but I’m dumb and literally just forgot it existed. It was supposed to go in one of the chapters after she found out what happened with Olivia, but before the flashback with James in the hospital. If you remember their argument, it should make a little more sense now as to why she yelled, “You didn’t even want a baby” at Francis when he was trying to get her to go to the hotel. This fight happened before James got really sick. So, hope that clears it up.</p>
<p>There’s also a deleted snippet of Mary asking Francis if she had ever left him before, like the night she left and the accident happened. I have no idea why I took that out, there are actually a few “Deleted scenes” from that story that I might post here. We’ll see.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Cravings (Prompt)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Prompt: More pregnancy cravings!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Francis.” She whispers his name in the dark, it’s two in the morning and she really shouldn't be bothering him. “Francis,” She shakes him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” He mutters in a sleep state, groggy and sleepy. “Mary, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want fried chicken.” She pouts, “And sex, but mostly the chicken.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can give you one of those.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great!” She throws the blankets back in her excitement and makes a mad dash for the kitchen before Francis can even crack open his eyes. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn't talking about the chicken!” He calls after her but she doesn't come back. He finds her in the kitchen already making a mess as she gets out the necessary tools, she has too much energy than she should at two in the goddamn morning. She could laugh at how utterly annoyed he looks, he’s half amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do your cravings hit at the worst hours?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe our baby’s a night owl.” She says with a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope </span>
  </em>
  <span>not.” He groans, “I don't get enough sleep already with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Franciiiissss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” She gestures at the stuff she meticulously spread out on the counter. “Why do I have to make it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to make it?” She asks as she fires up a burner on the stove, he’s quick with the head shaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve burned down this kitchen enough, move.” He nudges her out of the way, “Did you even put oil in the pan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I supposed to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is how you fry chicken.” He says with a smirk and he’s more awake now, less annoyed with her than he was before. He keeps taking things away from her, she found a stale bag of chips in the back of the cupboard that she must have hidden there a while ago. He doesn't waste time taking it and tossing it in the trash. “No.” He says without even turning to look at her when she tries to dip her finger in the batter in the small mixing bowl on the counter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He says when she tries again. “Mary, for the love of God.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m hungry.” She pouts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to make yourself sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it done yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He uses the tongs to flip the chicken over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so sexy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Making chicken?” He gives her a weird look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you cook for me.” She smirks, “You’re the only person who’s ever done it.” Her mom never did, even when she was sober. You would think Mary would have taught herself how to cook but she could never get the hang of it. It’s not that she doesn't know how she’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad at it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s sad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I lied, you’re not.” She says suddenly, “I had a Social Worker make me pancakes once while my mom was getting her stomach pumped.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Six.” He frowns slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you so painfully optimistic after all the crap you’ve been through?” He asks softly, but she doesn't answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is my chicken done yet?” She asks instead and makes an excited little squeak when he drops the pieces on a plate for her that makes him smile the cutest little smile. She’s dumb, she doesn't wait, she’s so consumed by the urge to just bite into it. Long story short, she hisses when it burns her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hot!” Francis warns but it’s too late, she drops the piece back on the plate with a yelp. “Wait for it to cool down, good god.” He’s trying not to laugh, but he does, and she pouts. “You act like I don't feed you.” She sets the plate down with a frown and then gets the best idea she has ever had in her life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Francis doesn’t even ask what she’s doing when she heads for the freezer, he’s cleaning up the kitchen as much as he can, putting dishes in the sink to get to at a more reasonable time. Meanwhile, Mary has tossed a carton of vanilla ice cream on the counter with a gleeful smile. She’s peeling the lid off when he turns around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The chicken wasn't enough?” He asks with a quirk of his brow. She grabs a drumstick off her plate, “Don't. You. Dare.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m cooling it down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s disgusting.” He says when she spoons some ice cream out and smears it on the chicken. He makes another face when she takes a bite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember when I said you were going to get sick earlier?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good.” She smiles, “Try it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I believe you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your face tells me you don't.” She already has a piece ready for him. She walks over with it and he looks like she’s walking over with a gun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He says again and she pouts, “I’d rather die than eat that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try it, I promise it’s good.” She smiles, “Pleassseee?” He squints, “I’ll give you a kiss.” He starts to consider it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That first and then we’ll see.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You woke me up in the middle of the night for chicken, I think you owe me.” Okay, he has a point. She rolls her eyes but lets him lean down to press his lips to hers, it’s soft and slow and she was genuinely meaning for it to be a peck but it’s Francis and he has other ideas for where it was going. She sees what he’s doing though and promptly pushes him away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You promised.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't promise a thing.” He says simply, her pout seems to physically pain him and he reluctantly takes a bite of the chicken she’s holding. It’s hell waiting while he chews for his reaction but after a while, he makes a face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then spits it out in the trash can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are dying children in Africa!” She scolds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dying children in Africa wouldn't eat that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Years of neglect really messed up your taste buds.” He tells her and she mutters something unintelligible as he puts her empty plate in the sink. He turns back to her to find her now spooning ice cream to her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the middle of the night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re eating ice cream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” He shakes his head. Sugar and sleep don’t mix well, but she wasn't tired anyway so where’s the harm?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, it’s time for bed.” He says after a while and she shakes her head when he attempts to take the carton away from her, “Mary-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can have some tomorrow at a more reasonable time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s technically tomorrow right now.” She argues, scooping more on her spoon and smirking when he seems to give in. “Haha, I win.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’m going to bed.” She grabs him with a whine before he can leave.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, stay here with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to work tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” She says, “I don't want to be alone.” He’s looking at her like she’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>like he wants to throttle her, but he doesn't say anything, he just sits next to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you done?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five minutes.” He hums, “You’re making a mess.” He says as he reaches for a napkin and starts dabbing at the tabletop where glops of melted ice cream have fallen. “How the hell…” He’s saying when he sees she also got it in her hair and she smiles. “Mary…” He’s smiling too despite his tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m done now.” She says softly as the ice cream settles in her stomach and she starts to feel a little uneasy about it, she’s not going to tell him that, she doesn't want to prove him right. The uneasy feeling is forgotten when she opens the freezer after Francis has already left the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Francis, we have </span>
  <em>
    <span>cinnamon rolls</span>
  </em>
  <span>!?” He hid them, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mary!” The half-amused shout makes her run for the stairs. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Get chu a man who will make fried chicken for you in the middle of the night.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. I Think I've Seen This Film Before Pt 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It's quiet. She's on the edge of the bed with her back turned towards him, watching big raindrops roll down the window. He doesn't say anything for a long time, a long stretch of silence that maybe he was expecting her to fill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, talk to me." He says and she remains quiet because she doesn't have anything else to say to him. They said enough the other night. "Mary," she hears him move, jerks her hand away when he sits next to her, and tries to hold it. After that, she just gets up and moves away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're not supposed to be here." She tells him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Was I just supposed to sit at home and wait for you to maybe, eventually, call me?" He asks, "Or come home?" He asks that in a softer tone, "I know I can't take back what I said..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wishes that she could forget that he said it. Maybe if she slams her head against the wall hard enough, the memory will disappear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That's too easy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she'll be just as angry when she remembers</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That fixes it. Thank you." She mutters without looking at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't mean it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh no, you...you meant it." She knows him, he forgets that sometimes. He meant it. It was all over his face and his actions as of late confirmed it. "I'm glad you told me the truth, now we don't have to play pretend."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What is that supposed to mean?" She's quiet for a minute, debating with whether she should say it, she decides to. Only because he hurt her, now it's her turn and she feels like she deserves to be a little petty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I've been lonely most of my life. My brother, he left when I was still so little. He got out while he could, my mom...isn't sober enough half the time to know her own name. My father is dead, I never even got to meet him..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not done." She snaps And she finally looks at him, "My point is I have been alone so much that I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. I told myself when I have a family, it would be a real one and normal...that I would never feel unwanted again. My children would never wonder when I was coming home or if I was, I wouldn't leave them at churches to go get a drink."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's quiet, trying to piece together where this is going.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're never home, I get that your work is important and you can't really leave things for the next morning. But I have never felt more alone than I do right now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, what-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm saying I should have realized who you were before I said yes to you. I had never been loved before, and I..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't." It sounds like a warning and a plea, he closes in on her and she shakes her head as she steps away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This marriage was a mistake." She finally says it and she can't watch the words sink into him or see his reaction to them because she knows it'll change her mind. She hears the sharp intake of breath and the deep exhale. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't think I'm coming home." She adds softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you...and you love me." He says softly  she can hear him walk over to her but she doesn't turn around, "Please, you're just angry right now..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You should go."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary, please look at me." She doesn't turn around. "I'll fix this...I'll fix it. Okay?" She doesn't see how.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love you." He tells her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You love me..." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis, you should go." She says softly but when he doesn't move, she starts to shove him towards the door. "I said get out!" She shouts at him and he still doesn't leave, he seems to be stuck, frozen as she continues to yell at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I said no <em>yelling</em>." Greer seems annoyed when she pokes her head through the now open door. "Francis. Come on." She says softly, sympathetically as she leads him out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hears her tell him that she just needs time before the front door closes and she twists the lock in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's been calling </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she's been ignoring all of them. Greer took James to the park so that Francis could see him, she probably;y told him how Mary's been moping around, crying a lot, how she doesn't sleep much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Francis looks like hell." Greer has her own status report when she comes home with James and Rose, "And you look like hell."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Greer-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"This isn't helping anyone." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please." She's going to go into another lecture about how this is only hurting them and James indirectly. Who doesn't understand why he can't see his father with his mother present. It's been a few more weeks now since she left home. Greer seems to be the only person who knows the full story, Francis hasn't told anyone. He let them find out on their own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You love Francis, he loves you. That's all that matters and sure he said some really...really stupid things, but-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He didn't want James."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not at first!" Greer retorts. "And he lied to you, that's terrible okay, I get that, but he was trying to make you happy. I didn't want Rose at first. Now I can't imagine my life without her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Greer-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"People get scared." She says softly as she eases herself on the couch beside her, "And Francis got scared..." she adds it just as softly. "It's time to go home."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can be angry with him as long as you want but this is torture for both of you. Go. Home. James can stay here for a little bit while you guys...hash it out or something." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't want-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, you do." She snaps, "Mary, do you really think a divorce or separation is going to help? No, you're going to be miserable and you're going to want him back. He's not going to stop fighting for you." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that's true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-/-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The house is quiet and dark when she goes in, setting her keys on the end table by the door sounds too loud and she knows that he isn't here, but that doesn't make her stomach untwist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knows he won't be back for a while. She sets her bag by the door and sets about cleaning up. Francis is usually tidy, a bit of a beat freak if she's honest. The house is in disarray, she lets herself think it's because she hasn't been here to keep up with it, not that Francis hasn't been in the mood to clean. What with her leaving him and whatnot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the hour's tick by, she's surprised he hasn't called her. He usually has by now, at least once or twice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaving a few pleading voicemails. She has some she hasn't listened to, so she pours a glass of wine and she sits at the kitchen table to listen, but she can't get herself to press play so she just downs her glass and pours another one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn't even hear the door open or the footsteps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops dead in his tracks when he sees her at the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary..." He seems surprised to see her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm drinking." She mutters. "Greer has like...no good wine at her house."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You...you came home to drink?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um." She clicks her tongue against her teeth and thinks for a second, "No." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is...is James-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's still at Greers."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." He's disappointed at that and if he hadn't admitted that he didn't want James, she would have felt worse. "I just...I miss him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, okay." She scoffs as he takes off his coat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I do." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mhm." She tilts her glass to her lips, "I missed my alcohol."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Drinking." She mutters as she pours another glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, down another one, Marie." She sends the bottle down with a slam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do that." She snarls it, "I'm not her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm. How many glasses have you had, darling?" He folds his arms over his chest. She can tell he had a bad day, a stressful one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe I should have stayed at Greers." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." He says again and she doesn't know what he's saying no to, but she grabs her car keys and she starts to stand. "Hey."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gonna go now-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Absolutely not." He snaps, "Mary!" He's coming after when she starts to head for the hall, towards the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't grab me." She warns when he's closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're not driving like this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, you're not." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't touch me." He touches her and she whirls around, promptly slapping him in the face. As hard as she can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then immediately regrets it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry!" She squeaks, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm bleeding." He sounds like he's in disbelief, "Mary what the hell?" She hit him so hard she split his lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't mean to- okay I meant to-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You just hit me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why? Why would you do that?" He asks and he's looking at her like he doesn't even know who she is anymore as he dabs at the blood with the back of his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I told you not to grab me..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you <em>slap</em> me in the face."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh-huh."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Give me your keys." He says with a shake of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mary-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, they're mine." She holds them to her chest with the dedication of a toddler who doesn't let go of a moldy cookie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Car. Keys. Now." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I swear to god, Mary-" she bites him. "Ow!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ew, I'm sorry!" She shrieks and then she just...bolts. She's drunk, she doesn't get very far before he catches up and hooks her around the waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stop running!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let me go!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No!" She kicks her legs harder and this would probably look hilarious to someone passing by. "YOU STUPID TREES FOR LEGS MOTHER FU-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, I've had enough!" He shouts that over her shrieking, successfully twisting her keys out of her hands and throwing them over his shoulder. He has her turned around now, throws her up against the wall like she's made out of paper, and then covers her mouth with his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Chill. Out. Please." She tries to tell him to fuck but she cant on account that he's covering her mouth. "I'm sorry what?" She whines pitifully. "Am I hurting you?" He asks that softer, she nods and he completely let's go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slides down the wall and crumbles on the floor in a sobbing mess. She's so drunk and she's still so mad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He puts her keys in his pocket before he crouches down with a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're a pathetic pair, aren't we?" He asks. She nods. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No." She cries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to leave me again?" He asks softly, without looking at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can...can I hold you?" She nods and he moves to sit next to her, pulls her to his chest so she can cry against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Children. All of them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>